Monsoons and the Gila Wilderness, NM

[RedRoxx44]

Dark backdrops for the electric flashes. Big clouds cast bigger shadows. The sun wanes as I drive toward my car camp in the Apache National Forest past Clifton/Morenci after leaving Tucson post work around 5:00 or so.
It is velvet night by the time I drive slowly and find my little dirt road turn off, so seldom used it is growing a little grass, and drive back to the past used campsite in the trees, back in and turn the car off.
I step out to the smell of rain, not nearby, and stars overhead. I put on my headlamp, do a few things, then turn in and set my alarm for early. Want to be at the TH in the Gila between 7:00-8:00 am the next morning.

Sometimes being solo is nice. You set your own schedule. I glide thru Mule Creek in the dark, and the sun is just rising as I drive thru the not so ghost town of Mogollon. The clouds are white and puffy, the streams small yet. Hopefully a dry start to my trip. From the Bursum TH, where I spy some familiar names in the register, I swing my pack on for a three day about 28 mile loop in the Gila Wilderness. This trek is a conditiioning trip for a 55 mile trip planned in the Winds in early September.

I have hiked parts of this before, but a new segment of Whitewater Creek awaits me, and a new part of my favorite, the Apache-Holt trail. I will top out on Grouse Mtn, at over 10K, and visit Apache cabin as a side trip.
Away I go on the Redstone Park trail. It is drier than I remember but everything is looking pretty green as I look out. This part of the Gila the mountains are clothed in robes of green conifers, very few dead trees seen, a sign of vigorous health.
The trail rocks and rolls as I remember. Soon I am at Redstone Park, I pause to check on the creek. It seems pretty mellow, at this point I can chose two routes, down the river or up to the high country. I decide to get the many creek crossings out of the way. I have hiked in 5 miles with another 5 to go. I attempt to keep my feet dry, and the gentle stream cooperates. For a long way the trail is crowded with many green things, among them wild strawberries, as it negotiates the narrow and rough canyon bottom. I graze as is my usual habit, and pick up a few wild raspberries too. The humidity rises and I see big dark clouds in glimpses from the wooded bottom. I keep at it, in the wonderful world of the canyon bottom rain forest, and make my turn off to Winn Canyon. Here I set up camp well out of the stream bed, and enjoy 30 minutes of dryness before the thunder and rain. The loud bellows echo more above me, on the ridgetops. I relax in my tent with a book, on the Gila of course, and listen to the rain drops and the rhythm as it changes depending on the cloud cover above. The sun flashes weakly one last time before it is lost to gray and rain. The night the rain diminishes, and in the morning the dampness and droplets glow on all the vegetation. I trash bag the fly on my tent, then pack my pack and head out. Today is a tough one, with about 3000+ feet gain in five miles, and travel mostly above 9K.
I bend under my pack like a plow horse. There is nothing but up, and more up. Some switchbacks make it nicer, and I spy photo opprotunities just when I feel like I need to pause. Spider Saddle arrives and I enjoy the pleasant wooded area, and a bit of a view of basaltic cliffs down the canyon as the Winn Canyon trail "T"s into the Apache Holt trail. The last time coming up from the East Fork of Whitewater Creek I was not feeling well and didn't enjoy this area to it's fullest. I make the left hand turn on this new part, for me, of the Apache Holt trail, climbing again along a rocky outcrop, to the side trail to Grouse Mtn. I drop my pack, cover it, and take my camera and rain gear for the short side stop at Grouse Mountain. Well named. I spy some grouse, don't bother with a photo. I am seized with a carnivore's urge to see one of the fat hens roasting on a spit over an open flame. Somehow my snack bars aren't cutting it. The view out from on top is all along the crest--Whitewater and Center Baldy peaks. I look in vain for signs of the Hummingbird fire.
Back on the trail, past Grouse Mountain is my favorite part of the Apache Holt trail, it meanders thru some huge trees, with massive fern understory, like a miniature forest. Another section passes thru dense Aspen, run amok. Most of the Gila trails high are in dense forest, not many open views, but a few along this trail, the sky covered in huge clouds, with the promise of rain sooner than later today.
I arrive too soon at Spruce Creek Saddle. A lovely meadow trail juncture. I again leave my pack for the side trip to Apache cabin, passing by a spring, then return. The cabin in fine shape.
As I get myself together at the Saddle thunder echos in the woods. It is too early to camp I tell myself, I want to go on back down to Redstone Park, about 3.5 miles away. I take off, promising to camp early if it is looking too bad. The sky is a funny gray with a molten silver look to it. Hmmmmm--- shoulda camped early.

I don my rain gear after about a mile. The trail is sidehilling a steep drainage with no possible campsites that I remember. It has started to rain hard, so hard I have almost no visibility beyond 20 feet or so, and the trail runs with water. I plod along, everything secure, camera double bagged and under my rainsuit top, critical items in my pack in a heavy duty trash bag, and my pack covered. I come to a short open area, maybe 25 feet of crossing a small talus slope. All along it has been thundering and lightning on the periphery. I am not on the top and mostly in uniform tree cover. Here, I feel the hair rise on the back of my neck and a funny, odd smell. Instinctively I throw my trekking poles from me and squat down, tucking my head, forgetting about the ample metal in camera and lenses I carry. All is suddenly white and briefly hot on my right cheek, and the thunder so loud I am still having problems hearing out of my right ear as I type this. I closed my eyes but a dazzling whiteness is imprinted so I pause there, unable to see for a few seconds. It feels like I am inside some white noisy silence, hard to explain.
I am untouched, but grab my poles and hurry to cover in the woods. I don't see where the bolt struck but I seem ok, just dazed. I stagger along a bit, and need my poles for balance. The slightly deaf in one ear thing messes with my balance. My peripheral vision seems fogged but clears right up. Very weird feeling for the next half mile or so. I am thankful. Just put on foot in front of the other. I make Whitewater Creek, and because I can't hear well, am surprised when I pass a little falls along the trail that is just rip roaring, frothing with tan water, run off from the rains.
I must cross the creek once before Redstone Park; forget keeping feet dry now. I use my poles and make it across. At the crossing is a use campsite above the stream bed by about 20 feet. I decide to camp here, it is still raining but not as hard.
I put two small rocks at the river bank, after I set up camp and eat, I return, the water has taken them as it rises.

I am concerned but I am well away from the creek and this area shows no sign of having been breeched by flood waters in the past. I forgot my sil tarp, a nice thing to set up camp under, so everything is a little damp, I keep my sleeping pad, bag and clothing dry. It is cool now and I'm amused I have on thin thermals, a fleece hat, and by morning a fleece pullover; and it is summer.
The rain stops on into the night. The creek just roars away all night long. I get up every so often to check it. The morning light is precious. I have coffee and wander around and just enjoy the rain forest trip, as I call it. My pack is heavy with all the wet and damp things. I have a short five miles out with some elevation gain. The sky again bulges with black bottomed clouds, and it is raining lightly as I make my car. The drive back has some awesome vistas of the Gila draped in monstrous clouds and I hope my attempts at capturing it show something of what it was like. The green, the wet glowing vegetation, the lack of sunlight, the gloomy beauty, the silent steps as I saw no other hiker this route, the glimpses of little animals and the calls of hidden birds.
A diamond in the rough, that is the Gila, and it is why I feel I must return and see it's gemstone like beauty.
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You can rest when you're dead

[SkyIslandHiker]

Wow, that was quite an adventure and close call!! Thank goodness you had time to react to the warning signs.

Bill
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[Matt Hoffman]

Awesome write-up Letty! I'm glad you're OK. You know, you could have stayed in Tucson this weekend and got struck by lightening there!

I was on Mt. Lemmon at Windy Point on Saturday. Even though it was pouring rain and lightening, I decided to go climbing anyway, since I drove down there from Phx. It probably wasn't smart, but it was fun nonetheless.
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"Your day-glo ballet days are over." Ancient chinese proverb.
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[IGO]

[BoyNhisDog]

Touched by fire!

Looks like the new wide angle is serving you well. Things do lean out when you point it down and inward when you point it up from level with the horizon. It can be a good effect but can also be corrected in Photoshop if you want.

We spent a horrific night atop the Chiricahuas a couple of decades ago. It was this time of year too. The lightening was so intense in the pouring rain. It is so weird and scary. I am glad you came through it. Hope the hearing comes back all the way.
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Seize from every moment its unique novelty and do not prepare your joys
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[gpsjoe]

Glad you didn't get fried out there. Very nice photo set.

What camera and lens options are you using now?